China's short poems, slingshots in ancient times, broken bamboo, tangled bamboo,
Fly the soil and eat meat. "
Modern expression of poetry: minimalism, jumping, dynamic and very beautiful.
China's poetry has a history of 2500 years. 1, the book of songs is long, but it is also a kind of short poem. Originally, it was a four-character poem, such as the pigeon in Guanguan, the love of a gentleman. It is the pursuit of love and aesthetics.
2. Although The Songs of Chu is long, it is also a short poem. 3. Nineteen ancient poems. In addition, there are Tang poetry, Song ci, Yuanqu, Siyan, Wuyan and Qiyan.
Short poems are easy to remember. Tang poetry is a lyric art. Influenced by Neo-Confucianism in Song and Ming Dynasties, Song Dynasty suppressed emotions and always made sense. It is wisdom.
Specifically, it is accurately described in Si Kongtu's poems. There are 24 kinds of beauty: elegance, precision, quietness and strangeness.
Ancient poetry in the new era should have a sense of modernity, modernity and modernist creation.
Second, the characteristics and system of short poems
1, short and pithy
2, chic and unique
3. Simple explanation
4. Aesthetic? In the era of judicial wisdom, we must first have aesthetic feeling and judicial wisdom. At the same time, poetry is also a philosophy of life, a blend of emotions, and a unity of reason and sensibility.
Short poem system: including short poems, but short poems are not short poems. Short poems: within 10 lines (generally no more than 10 lines), 35 lines, no more than 40 lines.
Third, the beauty of short poems, where is the beauty and how to appreciate it.
Extraordinary ideological connotation, excellent artistic expression and high aesthetic value.
Beauty lies in the natural integration of emotion and interest, meaning and sound, shape and image, sparseness and density, movement and quietness, exposure and concealment, clumsiness and cleverness. A poem is the unity of truth, goodness and beauty.
Good poetry is a virtue and a soul.
Spirit, between heaven and earth, between people.
The pattern of poetry should be big.
Fourthly, there are fourteen kinds of short poems.
(A sense of time and space, using a pen to make up for the beauty of nature and lofty sadness.
Gong Que (Tang) Zhang Qian?
An ancient country of three thousand miles, a maid-in-waiting lived here for twenty years.
Why is it full? See how hard she tries to hold back her tears.
(2) The beauty of compassion, purity, detachment and meditation.
On the evening of December 19th-Fei Ming
The lights at night,
If the mountains and rivers flow,
There is a sea outside.
The starry sky is a bird forest,
It's flowers, it's fish,
This is a dream in the sky,
The sea is a mirror at night.
Thought is a kind of beauty.
Is home,
This is a day,
This is the moon,
This is a lamp,
It's fire,
Fire is a shadow on the wall,
This is the sound of a winter night.
"Late at night in winter, the poet sat quietly in his room. He faced a lamp in the room, as if there were towering mountains and flowing water in front of him, and the silent fields surrounded him like the sea. He imagined the twinkling stars in the night sky, as if they were bird forests, as if they were warm flowers, and as if they were swimming fish. The ever-changing star room gave him a dreamy feeling, like a blue sky nightmare. The stars in the sky are reflected on the sea, as if they were a mirror of the night. The poet recovered from the night scene and felt that his beautiful thoughts seemed to be a beauty, a home, a sun, a lamp and a fire. The jumping fire left a shadow on the wall, just like a tree shadow. In the poet's feeling, this moving tree-like shadow seems to be the sound of a winter night. This is a series of images presented to readers by this poem, and the poet's feelings about winter nights. The artistic expression of this poem has many characteristics: first, it devotes itself to the presentation of images, and expresses the poet's mood with hints and metaphors. Its length is short, but its image is complicated. The poet expresses his erratic thoughts through a series of jumping images. Poets don't say how beautiful their thoughts are, but through metaphors, ... "
(3) Thinking about the beauty of the world is beyond words and thrilling.
Song of the Wanderer's Night
Liang yi
Top of all things
Quiet,
All the treetops
All gone
Silk wind shadow.
Birds are silent in the forest.
Wait: later.
You should be quiet, too.
Rhyming version of "Wandering Midnight Song"
Qian Zhongshu's translation
Breeze collects sawdust.
The group moved to the mountain to have a rest.
Birds sleep quietly.
The blink of an eye is night.
? Quasimodo
? Man stands alone in the center of the earth.
? Penetrating by a beam of sunlight:
? The blink of an eye is night.
This minimalist three-line poem can be regarded as three steps in everyone's life. Born lonely, died in an instant, the richest experience is being pierced by a beam of sunshine. However, just when there is a ray of light in your heart, "the blink of an eye is night."
? Quasimodo, with the same name as "The hunchback of Notre Dame", is the greatest Italian poet in the 20th century, and won the Nobel Prize in Literature Prize in 1959. Quasimodo's life can be very long, because there are too many stories, too many frustrations, legends, honors and hardships. In fact, everyone's life is not long enough and complicated enough. If you write a poem, only three sentences are enough. Quasimodo was sentenced to three years, and so were you and me. This is what quasimodo said, written in one of his short poems, Blink of an Eye is Night, with only three lines.
On the rostrum of Youzhou, Chen Ziang, where are the lost years in front of me? Behind me, where are the future generations? . I think of heaven and earth, there is no limit, there is no end, I am alone, tears fell down! ?
(d) Drawing materials from daily life, having nothing to do with daily life, and hiding the beauty of thoughts.
I put a jar in Tennessee,
It's round, on a mountain.
Surround the mountain.
Wilderness rushes to it,
Spread around, no longer a wilderness.
Tall, like a portal in the air.
It is everywhere.
The jar is gray and has no lid.
Unlike other parts of Tennessee.
(5) Reading the vicissitudes of life is awesome. The beauty of freedom and frankness
"When things change, birds sing" (America) Robert
Flight/translation
Once there was only a bird song at dusk, which was beyond recognition.
I came back from spring and walked through the rock pasture.
Silence, the sky above is no more silent than the sky in the bucket.
Now, all the places and faces have disappeared, and some people have died.
The dusk was silent, and I stood in the distance and finally made up my mind.
Some things will eventually die, and I miss the silence when birds sing more.
Talent? Milosz
How comfortable life is.
? The morning mist dissipated early, and I was working in the yard.
? Crowds of hummingbirds wander among the gold and silver flowers.
? I don't need anything else in the world.
? No one deserves my envy.
? I forgot all the bad luck.
I am not ashamed to think of myself in the past.
? I am light and painless.
? From a distance, you can only see the white sails on the blue sea.
"Xijiang Moon" Zhang Xiaoxiang?
Greetings to the lake in spring, the spring flowers on the shore and the spring birds in the forest. You are so beautiful. This time it came three years ago.
When the east wind blew, I rowed across the lake in my boat, and the willows stroked my face as if welcoming me.
I am used to the twists and turns on the road of life. No matter where I am, my heart is carefree.
Under the cold light pavilion, the lake reflects the sky. It's really Tianshui people, and a group of Sha Ou are on the water.
(6) The beauty of scene blending, things stand side by side, full of vitality.
Happy day-sorbus in autumn
lake
I love a new day infinitely.
Today's sun, today's horse, today's Yamanashi.
Let me be healthy, rich and have a lifetime.
From dawn to dusk
merry
Better than all the poems in the past.
Happiness found me.
Happiness said, "Look at this poet.
He is happier than me. "
Split my autumn.
In the autumn that tore my bones
I love you, Thorpe.
(7) It means overseas, infinite and pure ethereal beauty.
Half-petal flower and fruit plum fangzi
Half petal flower
Willy flare
Willy flare
When she recalls the past.
The wind will stop.
Listen attentively.
flower
This flower
That flower
Many flowers
I only like one kind of flower.
Her name is Hua.
Sun Si of Two Trees
I just want a piece of land,
Don't plant anything.
Just plant two trees.
One day, you left first,
Or I'll go first.
Wu Lingchun? Spring Festival Gala
Author Li Qingzhao, Song Dynasty
The wind has stopped the dust, the fragrant flowers have blossomed, and I am tired of combing my hair at night. Things are people, not everything, and tears flow first.
It is said that Shuangxi Spring is still good, and it is also planned to make canoes. I'm afraid the ship can't carry much worry.
moonlit night
Author Shen, modern dynasty
The wind is cold,
The moonlight shines brightly.
I stood side by side with a big tree,
But I didn't rely on it.
Go to the oak tree pavilion
If I love you-
Never show off on your high branches, like climbing Campbell;
If I love you-
Never imitate spoony birds and repeat monotonous songs for the shade;
It is not only like spring, but also brings cool comfort all year round;
It is not just like a dangerous peak, it increases your height and sets off your dignity.
Even during the day. Even spring rain.
No, these are not enough!
I must be a kapok beside you, standing with you as a tree.
Roots, close to the ground,
Leaves, touching in the clouds.
Every time a gust of wind blows, we greet each other.
But no one understood us.
You have your copper branches and iron stems, like a knife, like a sword, and like a halberd;
I have my red flowers, like a heavy sigh and like a heroic torch.
We share cold waves, storms and thunderbolts, and we enjoy mist, flowing haze and rainbow.
Seemingly separated forever, but dependent for life.
This is great love,
Loyalty is here:
Love-
Not only love your stalwart body, but also love the position you insist on and the land under your feet.
(8) The simplicity and profound content of nature and the beauty of emotional restraint.
Mother's Naye
Dusk. The raindrops become smaller.
My mother and I screamed at the vendor.
meet with
What is energy-
Mom will bring the freshest vegetables.
Put it in my basket.
Mom!
The closest two drops in the rain
Before they go back to their lives
With whiter white hair in the twilight.
Mother, stand down.
Take care of me
Like a road. Look at her road.
Mom-
make a telephone call
Author/Nan Li
On a morning when flowers are in full bloom, I heard
Not far away, a crisp children's voice rang.
He shouted-"Mom!"
Several women on the road, just like me.
Look back with a smile
They all think that this gentle call
Have something to do with yourself
This is the time when the grass calls for spring.
Son, if your phone is not answered.
Take the lamp away from my eyes.
Take away the warmth in my heart.
(9) The image is repetitive, complicated as a whirlwind, and the beauty of roughness is sharp.
(10) Imagination comes first, and beauty is created beyond the purpose.
I've never seen a wasteland,
Never seen the ocean;
But I know what Heather looks like,
I also know what waves are.
I've never spoken to God,
Never been to heaven;
But I'm sure that place,
Just like you have a map.
(1 1) Thoroughly reasonable, understanding human nature, quiet and open-minded beauty.
generation
The night gave me black eyes.
I use it to find the light.
(12) Time and space crisscross, the poetic landscape turns dry, and the beauty is instantly transformed.
Former residence: Li Tianjing's poems
Standing outside the door decades later
Time is thin?
You may trip as soon as you lift your foot.
Ren childhood's little hand
Push open all the secret doors in the corridor
The resurrection of the Trojan horse-
Like crackle through.
Reflection of childhood courtyard mirror
Flowers Ruth
The image is so fragile.
Like a stranger, I can't lift it.
Knocker's hand
(13) The bottom of life, the taste of the west, the beauty of desolation and loneliness.
Two Problems in Northwest China
? 1, west-northwest
West-northwest
Where I have been.
There is no sorghum, no sorghum and no sorghum.
Sheep eat the sunshine on the stone.
A shepherd and I patted each other on the shoulder.
Patted him on the shoulder.
I walked a long way to find myself.
I haven't looked back yet
I'm at a loss.
The sky is covered with eagle wings.
Mention west-northwest
I often have tears on my face.
2. No man's land
In no man's land
The stones in front of you are some
A child with brown skin
They don't talk, and they don't look like flowers.
As you expected, it suddenly bloomed.
But you still have some expectations.
Sometimes you suddenly stop.
I firmly believe that stones can grow into trees.
Grow a long tree of mind
In no man's land
Either you believe that trees will grow on stones.
Either you're sad.
?
(14) Realistic metaphor, staggered presentation and fear of sublime beauty.
Death fugue Translated by Qian Chunkun
Black milk in the morning, we drink it at night.
We drink at noon and at night.
Let's drink.
We dig a grave in the air and sleep there is not crowded.
A man lives in a house. He plays with snakes. He writes letters.
After dark, he wrote back to Germany, your blonde Margaret.
He wrote a letter and walked out of the house. The stars are shining, and he whistles for the dog.
He whistled for the Jews to dig a grave in the ground.
Drink black milk in the morning and you at night.
We drink you in the morning and at noon, and at night.
Let's drink.
A man lives in a house. He plays with snakes. He writes letters.
After dark, he wrote back to Germany, your blonde Margaret.
Ramit, your gray book, let's dig a grave in the air and sleep there. Not crowded.
He asked the singers on the other side to sing and play music.
He picked up a broadsword and waved it. His eyes are blue.
Dig the shovel deeper. Keep playing the dance music here, and keep playing it there.
Black milk in the morning. We'll drink you at night.
Let's drink.
A man lives in the house, your blonde Margaret.
Your gray-haired book Ramit plays with snakes.
He asked to play the song of death better. Death is a master from Germany.
He asked me to play the violin deeper so that you could turn into smoke.
So you can have a grave to sleep in the clouds, and it is not crowded there.
Drink black milk in the morning and we'll drink you at night.
We will drink you at noon. Death is a master from Germany.
We drink you in the evening and in the morning, and we drink.
Death is a master from Germany, and his eyes are blue.
He hit you with a shot put. He hit you exactly.
A man lives in the house, your blonde Margaret.
He let the dog bite us. He gave us an air grave.
He is addicted to playing with snakes. Death is a master from Germany.
Summary: I heard the beauty of the poet Ye Zhang's short poems in Jing 'an Library last week, and I always felt that it was memorable. I thought Ye Zhang was a modern poet. In fact, she is also very accomplished in China's poetry of the Book of Songs and metrical poems. In this lecture, because she was talking about short poems, she picked up China's ancient poems from time to time, and many modern poems at home and abroad were also excellent in her exposition, so I spent a day sorting them out and revisiting this class.
This is the second time I have attended her lecture. After the first time, I bought her poetry collection "Gaze through Time and Space" and then tried to write literary criticism. I won the finalist prize in last year's Fu Lei Cup literary criticism competition. Although I didn't rank above the third prize, I ranked 25th, which was enough to motivate me to continue my efforts. Because I was commenting on her work, I also came to class and asked for her email address. After the lecture, I got her email, and my review article was sent to her, and she also replied. This is my wish, and I will continue to pay attention to her creation.
? Liu Sunan
165438+20201October 6th